You're Beautiful
by wholocked12
Summary: Molly and Sherlock met ten years ago on the tube. They just didn't know who the other was at the time. Song!fic. You're beautiful by James Blunt.


**Hi everyone! So I was bored the other day (no, there aren't any holes in my walls) and I was listening to music and this song came on. Truth be told I had a bit of a spazz when I listened to the lyrics. I was all like _SHERLOLLY_! Anyway, I decided to try to write a one-shot which I have never done. So I hope it didn't turn out too awfully bad... Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Like every other Sherlock story I write, I own nothing. **

_**You're Beautiful **_

_**James Blunt**_

* * *

_My life is brilliant._

After that one moment, Sherlock truly did believe his life was once again worth living.

_My life is brilliant._  
_My love is pure._  
_I saw an angel._

She was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. The big brown eyes and flowing brown hair entranced him. To him, she looked like an angel straight out of heaven.

_Of that I'm sure._  
_She smiled at me on the subway._  
_She was with another man._  
_But I won't lose no sleep on that,_  
_'Cause I've got a plan._

She sat next to another man who had his arm around her. The subway flew on, but he looked up and caught her brilliant eyes. She smiled at him and made eye contact. Even though it only lasted for a second, his heart melted. He knew he wasn't suppose to have feelings for anyone, but she was different. His brother constantly reminded him of this, but he couldn't help but feel his heart beat accelerate. Sherlock desperately wanted to be with her. He had only one idea.

_You're beautiful. You're beautiful._  
_You're beautiful, it's true._  
_I saw your face in a crowded place,_  
_And I don't know what to do,_  
_'Cause I'll never be with you._

He wanted to march right up to her at that moment and take her delicate hand in his and tell her how beautiful she was. How she made his pulse race. The bus was so crowded, but somehow whenever he looked up, his eyes managed to find her. Looking at her, he felt his heart crumble. He had known from his first look that he would never be with her.

_Yes, she caught my eye,_  
_As we walked on by._  
_She could see from my face that I was,_  
_Fucking high._  
_And I don't think that I'll see her again,_  
_But we shared a moment that will last 'til the end_.

Even though he knew that he was so high that his head was in the clouds, he knew that he had never felt this way for another human being before. Sherlock realized that as they were getting off the bus, it didn't matter if he never saw her again. The memory of her smile was painted into his mind. For once in a long time, he allowed himself a small smile.

_You're beautiful. You're beautiful._  
_You're beautiful, it's true._  
_I saw your face in a crowded place,_  
_And I don't know what to do,_  
_'Cause I'll never be with you._

Years later, on one of his worst days, he lay on his couch with a cigarette in his fingers and pictured the beautiful girl's smile from long ago. It was as if he had seen those brown eyes the day before. As he pictured her happy face in his mind, he found himself putting out the cigarette on the arm of his couch and throwing it to the floor. That day on the subway would last him the rest of his life.

_You're beautiful. You're beautiful._  
_You're beautiful, it's true._  
_There must be an angel with a smile on her face,_  
_When she thought up that I should be with you._  
_But it's time to face the truth,_  
_I will never be with you._

Ten years later from the day that he had seen a living angel, he was taken to the morgue by the Detective Inspector at Scotland Yard. There was a body he was needing to see and he was to oblige to whatever the pathologist told him to do. As he was led into the cold, damp room, he saw a small woman leaning over a decaying body with her hands deep in its gut. She looked up from her work at the sound of the door, and when Sherlock saw the brown ponytail whip up and the large doe eyes look over him, he knew exactly who he was looking at. The small woman took off her gloves and walked over to the sink to clean her hands. If there was anyone in heaven looking down on him, for once in his life they were smiling at him. Maybe he was supposed to be with her.

"Molly Hooper, pathologist," she said walking over to where he stood rooted to the floor.

"Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective," he greeted with a broad smile which she immediately saw and returned.

"Pleasure," she replied extending her hand.

"No, no Miss Hopper. The pleasure is all mine."

* * *

**So that's what I've got for you guys today! By the way if you read my other story, The Other Side of Love, the next chapter is in the process. With school starting again, I got caught in a hurricane of paper. Blame my teachers.**

**Reviews and thoughts on how that went are, as always, very welcome.**

**Bye y'all!**


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